


Wonderland

by UGLYBOY



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28404723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UGLYBOY/pseuds/UGLYBOY
Summary: Acid and self hatred make a terrible cocktail.
Relationships: Rob Van Dam/Sting
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Wonderland

Sting was a simple man, he liked drinking vodka and popping pills every Monday night to make the pain go away. But he also liked tripping acid to take trips to wonderland. And some nights he did both.

Those nights were the worst. He hated himself during those trips. For awhile Sting couldn’t see through all the melting walls and bright colors, now however, he can still feel disgust for his very being even while in the clouds. 

But the disgust doesn’t stop Sting, he just looks past that continuous loathing and tries to focus on all the pretty colors. Dancing tie-dye floors and pulsating...everything it’s stereotypical really.

He used to think every scene in the movies with sexy girls dancing, and glitter running down their faces was just a joke. Or some sort of half-assed attempt at making drugs look “Groovy” Now Sting feels the glitter too.

It’s like a wheel of fortune “What’s gonna trigger Sting today” the answer is Scotty ignoring one too many calls. He knows it’s 3Am and Scotty shouldn’t be awake, but Scotty’s always here when he’s needed. 

Sting lowers the hotel phone onto its receiver. Tired of trying and at this point there’s no use. Defeated he pulls a small box out from under his mattress, takes a tab and places it on his tongue. When 1 isn’t enough he tries 2, then 3, then 4. 

That’s better. He doesn’t notice the “Feeling” until 10 minutes in. Tingling from his fingers to his head. Heat setting into his body, like literal euphoria. Thoughts leaving while colors enter. Sometimes Sting wonders why he didn’t start taking Acid years..Decades ago. 

He lets his eyes close for who knows how long. And ambient sounds of “Motel” as well as cheap cable goes through one ear out the other. 

Calm all is calm. Until the end of Stings bed sinks down as if someone’s sitting there, he tilts his foot to the side to get a feel...Wait someone is sitting there. A hand comes up to pat Stings head, it’s rough like the fingers have been calloused from hard work.

His heart begins to pound a full blown panic attack is coming on, and he can’t take it. This is just a bad trip. A really bad trip. If it was a trip he wouldn’t be able to feel the fingers going down his chest, gripping his waist.

Sting immediately sits up and is eye to eye with Rob. He’d given Rob the extra key to his room just in case He’d needed something. But this wasn’t a friendly check in, to see if Sting was okay. This was far more than that. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Sting attempted to pry Robs hand off his waist. To no avail.

Rob moved a strand of hair away from his eyes. “Just came to see you, you didn’t respond to my knocks so I had to use a key” That smile was devious. See, Sting had dealt with guys like this before, guys who invited themselves into hotel rooms and sent obsessive good morning texts.

“Can you please get off of me?” He tried to remove Robs hand from his waist again, but Robs grip was tighter this time.

At this point they both know what’s happening. And only one wants it. 

Acid trips and a man on top of you don’t mix well. Too bad Rob always loved cocktails

**Author's Note:**

> Strange pairing, but this was made for a friend. I hope you liked it. Keep in mind this is a work of fiction and has no relation to real life events or the people in this fic. I’m just feeling angsty.


End file.
